


Ferreting Around

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Ocelot Collection [50]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 15:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18719869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Once more the Ferret is assisting on a case





	Ferreting Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okapi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Okapi. I hope you enjoy this.

“That’s the last of the boxes, Fred, you can shut the door and we’ll be orf,” the man said.

“What’s in the boxes?” someone, presumably Fred, asked.

“Dunno.  ‘E said it was papers.  They were ‘eavy enough.”

“I’ll check ‘em off in a bit.  I’m going to ‘ave me tea first.”

The Ferret didn’t wait to hear anything more but slipped inside the cellar.

Shortly afterwards the outer door clanged shut.  The Ferret made a quick tour of the cellar, noting a small side door which he presumed was how Fred would come in once he’d had his tea.  In the meantime, the Ferret checked out the five boxes.  They were fastened with straps, but not padlocked, which was a good thing.  The Ferret could undo buckles, and even do them up again if necessary; the strap wouldn’t be as tight, but at a quick glance they would pass muster.

The side door opened, and the Ferret slipped away from the boxes.  Fred swung his flash light around and the Ferret froze.

“Where did that stuffed Ferret come from?” Fred said.  “I don’t remember it being there before.  I suppose I’d better add it to my list.”

Fred carefully counted the boxes, listing each one separately by size and colour.  “Oh yes, one ferret, stuffed.”

He looked round, but the Ferret was no longer where he had seen him.  Fred swung his flash light again and caught sight of the Ferret.

“’Ere, you’re not a stuffed Ferret, you’re alive,” Fred said.  “Shoo!”

The Ferret, who was underneath a set of shelves, failed to move.

“Right.  I’m going to get my broom and that’ll move you, varmit.”

Fred left the cellar and returned a few minutes later with his broom.  The Ferret watched Fred poke under all the shelves from his own perch on top of the shelves.  Finally, Fred gave up, and, muttering that ‘e must ‘ave skedaddled when the door was open, departed.

Once satisfied the coast was clear the Ferret started to open the boxes.  It was slow work.  The first two boxes contained papers, but in view of all the dust that had accumulated on them they clearly weren’t recent.  The Ferret slammed the boxes closed again, which sent up a cloud of dust, making him cough, refastened the straps as well as he could, and moved onto the third box.

This looked much more promising.  The papers, many of which were letters, looked fairly recent, and a quick glance at the dates confirmed they had been written within the last couple of years.  The Ferret set about pulling the papers across the floor to the main outside door, where he piled them up to one side.  He’d about half emptied the box when he heard tapping on the door, so scampered over.

He heard the Ocelot say, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” the Ferret replied.  “I’ll start pushing things through.  There’s quite a lot.  I haven’t had time to check which are the ones Mr Holmes wanted in particular.”

“We’ll leave him to do that.  It’s not as if anyone will complain they’ve been taken, and Mr Holmes can always burn anything he doesn’t want.”

The gap under the door wasn’t very large, so it took a while for the Ferret to push everything through, but finally the pile was cleared.

“There’s more in the box, do you want me to keep going?” he asked.

“Do you think you’ve got all the recent ones?” the Ocelot asked.

“Yes.  The newest ones were on top.”

“Then that should do.  Collection of the boxes is due first thing tomorrow, so Dr Watson will be here to meet you.”

“Tell him to bring breakfast with him!”

“Of course!”

Once the Ocelot had left, the Ferret took a further tour of the cellar, before deciding to have a look in the other two boxes.  One appeared to be full of accounts books, which were of no interest.  The second had a wide collection of postcards.  The Ferret sat in the box and sorted through them.  Occasionally his furry eyebrows would go up and he’d lob the postcard out of the box.  Finally, when he was tired, he curled up amongst the postcards and fell asleep.

It will come as no surprise to learn the Ferret slept peacefully.  It wasn’t a dreamless sleep, there were songs, and costumes, and an adorable co-star, all of which readers will accept without question.  They may doubt the Ferret perfectly executing the can-can, but it was his dream, and in dreams such things are always possible.

The Ferret woke early, hopped out of the box and fastened it up.  Then he gathered up the postcards he’d selected the previous evening and took them over to the main door.  He didn’t have too long to wait before it was opened.  As soon as Fred started leading the man who’d come to collect the boxes into the cellar, the Ferret scuttled out and made his way to the road.

A few minutes later Dr Watson arrived and put down his medical bag.  The Ferret slipped inside and pushed the postcards behind some bottles.  Then he settled down to eat the toast and bacon he’d found in the bag.

Fred called out, “Oy, what do you want?”

Dr Watson replied, “I’m a doctor.”  He held up his medical bag as proof.  “I’m looking for Munroe Terrace.”

“It’s the next one over!”

“Thank you!”  Watson turned round and began walking back down the road. 

Once he reached the main thoroughfare, he hailed a cab.  After he had taken his seat, he opened his bag and the Ferret popped his head out.

“Holmes is delighted with what you found last night.  He says it’s been even more instructive than he expected.”

“Good.”  The Ferret finished eating before adding, “I found some things for you too.  They’re on one side of your bag.”

Watson felt behind the bottles and took out the postcards.  He glanced at the top two, smiled broadly and slipped them back in his bag.  “I shall take my time appreciating these.”

“I wasn’t sure how best to describe them,” the Ferret said.

“Um, works of art?”

 Watson and the Ferret exchanged the sort of look that was shared by one man (or ferret) of the world with another, and both nodded.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to Moth2Fic for sending me the article which inspired this: [Ferret found ferreting around](https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-lancashire-48057114?fbclid=IwAR1TICGtuGlrxyXOwYEZ3Oj2HokWv0InffRWxFgr8jn2epEiZ4uKV7oggYc)


End file.
